One is delighted to welcome the final issue in this series of
Strathclyde Concertos to the catalogue, just in time to celebrate the
composer’s eightieth birthday. The original releases on Collins
Classics, long unavailable, have been reissued by Naxos at a price which one
hopes will tempt a whole new era of listeners who are willing to experiment.
Indeed that is what Sir Peter does in these final two concertos, one scored
for an ensemble of ‘secondary’ woodwind instruments and one for
the whole orchestra.

The February issue of BBC Music Magazine, in an article by
Paul Driver celebrating the composer’s anniversary, only mentioned the
cycle of ten Strathclyde Concertos in passing, but effectively damned
them with faint praise by claiming that Maxwell Davies’ music written
between the years 1960 and 1980 “is the thing for posterity”. By
emphasising the works of the composer’s enfant terrible period,
the article failed to recognise the consolidation of style that had occurred
after 1980 when Maxwell Davies had produced not only these concertos, the
‘Naxos’ string quartets, and most of his symphonies - quite
apart from the whole raft of other works which this prolific composer had
written during those years. The composer’s recent illness did not
prevent his completion of his choral Tenth Symphony performed in
February 2014, which received rave reviews from the critics when it was
premièred by BBC forces under Antonio Pappano. Listening to that
work, I did get the impression that the composer was rather re-treading old
ground, with little in the music that sounded new; but that is decidedly not
the case with the Strathclyde Concertos, where the opportunity to
write for specific soloists - often playing more unusual instruments - seems
to have really sparked much original thought from him.

The Ninth Concerto highlights the ‘secondary’
members of the woodwind stable, most of whom have a very limited concerto
repertory in their own right. The work is in one single movement in sonata
form, with a slow ‘lullaby’, interspersed with a series of solo
cadenzas, taking the place of the symphonic development. The concerto also
has decided elements of a tone poem, “inspired” (as the composer
says in his booklet note) “by the infinite shading within the winter
greys of my Orkney home, where all light is refracted and reflected back
from the sea three hundred feet below.” This makes for a very
evocative series of tones and images, with the various soloists not only
taking virtuoso roles in their own right but also combining in a series of
fascinating counterpoints. There is even an element of ‘Scotch
snap’ in many of the phrases, finally resolving into the key of D flat
at the end. This is a very beautiful work in its own right, one of the most
immediately approachable of the Strathclyde series.

After that the Tenth Concerto is more of a conventional
concerto for orchestra, insofar as the word ‘conventional’ could
ever be used to describe the music of Maxwell Davies. The music flits from
idea to idea through the course of its three movements, but one fears that
the individual events fail to cohere into a unified whole. The perky finale
is perhaps the most impressive section here. It also provides a conclusion
for the cycle of concertos as a whole by reference back to material -
although not direct quotations - from the earlier pieces, played by their
respective soloists. In his booklet note the composer states that he has
“left the door ajar for future concertos”, and we may dare to
hope that he means it; but the coda provides a thoroughly satisfying
triumphant culmination of the cycle, dying away with an unexpectedly quiet
final few bars.

As a bonus this disc includes the occasional piece
Carolísima, commissioned by the Danish consul in Edinburgh
Jens Hegel as a surprise birthday present for his wife Carol (hence the
title). Hegel apparently “requested that there be at least two tunes
suitable for whistling, and something to dance to.” The tune initially
played by solo violin at the opening indeed sounds like a Scottish folksong
- and a very beautiful one, at that - but it appears to be Maxwell
Davies’ own invention. The composer states that he “also played
with references to Aaron Copland”, and the atmosphere of
Appalachian Spring is not far away. After that we move onto more
familiar Maxwell Davies territory, but there are still more Scottish
influences discernible with some further tunes which have whistle-able
tendencies. The results make for a very satisfying bonus.

As one has come to expect in this series, the playing by the members
of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra under the composer’s baton is
superlative and responsive. The original Collins Classics recordings sound
as good as ever.